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Chapter seventeen

The Night Rusty Touched Gem’s Ass

Gem

When it came to seduction, Gem had believed himself an expert.

A connoisseur of the sexual arts, if he could be so bold.

At least, that had been his experience up to this point.

He never wanted for companionship, and if he needed a good dicking, all he had to do was send one sexy picture, and the men would come running.

Unfortunately, seducing Rusty was proving to be far more difficult.

Either the Pyclon was very oblivious or he was purposefully being obtuse, and it was driving Gem up the fucking wall.

He never realized how much he relied on his pretty features and fat ass to lock down a man until Rusty seemed entirely immune to both.

Over the last few weeks since their visit to Montana, Gem had not held back. He did his makeup every day and styled his hair to perfection. He dressed extra slutty—going so far, in fact, that Quin reprimanded him for coming to work without a shirt.

He thought the sports bra counted. She did not.

He had to wear one of the ugly purple aprons all day, which entirely defeated the point of showing off his body for Rusty to ogle.

Not that Rusty even took the time to ogle.

Honestly, it was getting offensive at this point, and Gem was running out of ideas.

They hung out all the time, and Rusty never pulled away when Gem took his hand or snuggled into his lap while watching anime.

And Rusty’s pheromones were definitely giving interest. The seduction was working, while also never accomplishing anything.

Because every time they got close, every time their noses brushed or Rusty’s gaze dropped to Gem’s mouth, pale eyes hungry and wanton, they’d freeze there.

The air would crackle, and the vibes would be immaculately expectant and sexy, but Rusty wouldn’t kiss him. Gem would wait on bated breath for him to close the final, minuscule space, but he never did. The moment would pass, and Rusty would turn away, flustered and uncomfortable.

Gem was at a loss. Sure, he could have straight-up told Rusty that he wanted to kiss his mouth off his face, but what he feared more than Rusty’s direct rejection was Rusty going along with it simply because it was what Gem wanted.

Gem had a knack for steamrolling, and regardless of how stubborn Rusty could be, he was no match for Gem when it came to a battle of wills.

Plus, most of Rusty’s experience with these types of things, from what little Gem had gleaned, were from his old job.

They didn’t talk often about Rusty’s time on Flesh Street, but it had left marks, whether Rusty would admit it or not.

And if Rusty ever kissed him or fucked him out of some sort of ingrained response or obligation, it would break Gem’s hearts .

Gem wanted Rusty to want him back. He wanted Rusty to choose to want him back. So instead of ordering Rusty to finally “kiss me, godsdammit,” Gem dedicated himself to a seduction plan. It just sucked that he was, apparently, terrible at seducing stubborn, emotionally-stunted Pyclons!

On the very first open mic night at the cafe, Gem pulled out all the stops.

He put on a pair of white nets under the shortest, tightest pair of shorts he owned, and knee-high boots with dangerous heels.

Since he was attending as a patron, not an employee, he wore a white tube top that might as well have been a handkerchief or a doily.

Since the weather had cooled, he did have to cover up the shirt—if it could even be called a shirt—with a hoodie, but he figured that would make the reveal all the more dramatic later.

He met Rusty at the train station, pride swelling in his chest when the Pyclon’s gaze dropped to the nets on his thighs, then the boots, and his tail puffed up.

Gem slunk toward him, an exaggerated sway to his hips, and Rusty growled.

Then he shook his head, as if to clear it, and swallowed the next growl fighting its way up his throat.

“Hey, Rus,” Gem crooned, and Rusty avoided looking at him completely.

“Uh, hi. Our train’s about to leave.”

For the entire train ride, Rusty nervously shuffled the deck cards in his hands, attention jumping briefly to Gem’s net-covered kneecaps before tearing away again. Since Gem was, at his core, a naughty bitch, he reached out and massaged Rusty’s notched ear, making the Pyclon shiver.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Gem said, another hand covering Rusty’s fidgeting ones. “But it’s just a card trick. You’re gonna do great, and I’m gonna be right there in the audience for emotional support. ”

Rusty’s only response was a grunt, but he angled his hand enough to grasp Gem’s tightly. Bringing their clasped hands to rest on his thigh, Gem settled in as the train chugged toward Purgatory, smiling like a fiend as Rusty’s thumb claw tentatively traced the netting.

The moment they were inside the cafe, he removed his hoodie and hung it on the coat rack near the front door.

Rusty inhaled sharply, and Gem tried to look innocent as he faced the Pyclon and beamed down at him.

His eyes were wide and something feral glinted in the depths as he stared at Gem’s belly piercing.

“I found these boots at the thrift store,” Gem said conversationally, and Rusty’s attention jumped down, throat clicking with a thick swallow. Spinning in a slow circle so Rusty had ample time to take in every angle, Gem asked, “Do you like my outfit, Rus?”

In answer, a wave of thick, heady pheromones blasted right into him, and he grinned smugly down at the glaring Pyclon.

“You look like a hooker,” Rusty bit out, and Gem preened.

“Thank you, that’s so sweet.”

Rusty’s ear twitched. “It’s not a compliment.”

With a shit-eating grin, Gem leaned down until their noses nearly touched and purred, “Your pheromones say otherwise.”

Before Rusty could reply, someone cleared their throat delicately behind him. “Um, Gem?” Glyma said, breaking the moment. “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

Straightening, Gem sent Rusty a parting wink before he turned to the Succubus. “Of course, Glym. What’s up?”

“In Quin’s office?” Glyma gestured to the hallway, and Gem’s stomach dropped.

“Oh, okay. Wait, am I in trouble?”

Glyma tittered and shook her head. “Of course not. It’s just a silly paperwork matter.”

“Alright.” Finger-waving at a still glaring Rusty, Gem backed toward the hallway. “Don’t you dare do your card trick until I get back.”

Rolling his eyes, Rusty settled his earphones into place and trudged to the two round tables that had been pushed together and reserved for their group. Gem followed Glyma down the hall, stepping to the side when Bob scuttled out of Quin’s office toward the dining area.

Quin was already waiting, sitting behind her desk, red eyes somber. Nerves exploded in Gem’s gut as he obeyed Glyma’s instruction to sit down. He took the seat on the other side of the desk as Glyma joined Quin, sitting on the armrest of Quin’s chair.

“Wait, am I actually in trouble?” Gem asked again. “Oh gods, am I about to get fired? Please let me stay for open mic night. I promised Rusty I’d watch his card trick, and he’d never tell you this, but he’s really nervous, so I have to keep my promise.”

“Gem,” Glyma said, but Gem shook his head.

“After that, if you wanna kick me out, I’ll go without a fight.

You don’t have to call security or anything.

” He half-sobbed, gasping for air. “Actually, you probably should call security. I’m already formulating a plan to chain myself to the espresso machine so you can’t ever be rid of me.

I’ll live here until I die, and you can’t do shit about it!

Fuck the man, even though that’s sexist. Women make better bosses and should be in power more. ”

“Gem,” Quin said, but Gem flattened several hands on the desk.

“Please, I can do better. I promise I won’t flirt with customers anymore, and I’ll wear the cafe aprons, even if they clash with my outfit. I’ll pay for all my coffees and stop using expired dairy on customers who are rude to me.”

“Gem, we’re not firing you!” Glyma said, and Gem collapsed onto the desk with a cry.

“You’re not?”

“No, so you don’t have to do any of those things,” Glyma said.

“Well, you should stop serving expired dairy to customers,” Quin said, and Glyma nodded.

“That’s true. Don’t do that anymore.”

Sitting up, Gem wiped at the tears gathering in his eyes and nodded exuberantly. “Totally. No more revenge lattes.”

“We wanted to talk to you about something else,” Glyma said, pink eyes sparking in excitement. “A very good something else.”

“Possibly good,” Quin amended. “It’s not set in stone yet, so please keep this conversation between us for now.”

Gem settled more comfortably in the chair, clasping all his hands together. “Okay, I won’t say anything. I’m really good at secrets.”

Glyma and Quin exchanged a look, but neither of them commented on that. Glyma leaned forward, purple tail serpentining behind her.

“We’re expanding,” she said.

“Trying to expand,” Quin corrected.

“Really? Which part? The dining area? Does that mean we’ll get more room behind the counter because sometimes, it gets cramped back there, especially when we’re busy,” Gem said.

“No, not expanding here. We’re franchising,” Glyma said.

“Trying to franchise,” Quin said .

“Oh my gods, that’s amazing!” Gem squealed, and Glyma squealed too, reaching across the desk to squeeze two of Gem’s hands. “Where’s the other location?”

“Greed,” Glyma said.

“Hopefully,” Quin said. “We’re in negotiations, but no lease has been signed.”

“Yet,” Glyma said. “It’s happening any day now.”

Gem clapped his top hands. “That’s so exciting!”

Glyma sniffed and clapped her hands too. “It is. The new location is very small, but it’s a way in. If we can make a name for ourselves there, we can keep branching out into more districts, and—”